"Well isn't this a pickle.", you comment to no one."Yes it is.", a voice responds.Your head snaps up and your eyes finally focus on a face you vaguely...recognize. You think about it and nothing comes. Where have you seen him before? Try as you might, though, you can't place it."What happened? Where am I? Why am I tied up?", you ask."All in due time, babe. You'll learn.", he replies. "Now stop asking questions." Wa...", is all you are able to get out before his hand lashes out blindingly and pain. And Mommy Dearest was out of my life. When I got home from court (I had gone to make sure mom didn’t escape) I called Christine, my high school girlfriend. We had been “doing it” for almost three years now. She was more than ready to help me celebrate. The five-foot-six redhead knocked on the door. When I answered she just said, “Nice.” I supposed my being naked with a hard-on might have had something to do with that. She came in and I nearly dragged her to the bedroom. I clawed at her clothes. More

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